


Stargazing

by CannibalKats



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: F/M, Nevaeh Mahariel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 08:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4054093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalKats/pseuds/CannibalKats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders and Nevaeh Fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stargazing

“I’ll give you that,” she laughed handing him the flask. “I did manage to stay lost.”

“Not just stay lost,” Anders gesticulated excitedly, the whiskey he’d smuggled into their provisions sloshing out of the flask. “How many maleficar branded apostates can claim to have boinked a king?”

If she’d been drinking she would have spit it out. She glanced towards the camp and grunted. “Oghren.”

“Don’t kill him,” he chuckled. “There were already rumours.”

Nevaeh blushed.

“Some of the servants heard you arguing when his Highness was here. It took an impressive amount of drinking before he confirmed anything though.”

“I never slept with a King,” she drew her knees up to her chin.

“No denying it now, you’ve already said you did.”

“No, I’m not.” She sighed. “He wasn’t King then, I didn’t know until after, and we _stopped_ before.”

“I’ve always wondered if it would be different with royalty.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“ _Creators_ don’t ask me, he was a virgin.”

“Warden-Commander Mahariel, Hero of Fereldan, devirginizer of royalty.”

Nev snorted. “I believe the word you’re looking for is deflowerer.”

“Oh? You’re familiar with the terminology? Is this a habit? Are virgin’s your type?”

“No, but the strong silent type certainly has an appeal at the moment,” she eyed him playfully over the flask as she tipped it up.

There were no more bandits in the Wending Woods, nor Darkspawn, and the ‘witch’ was on her way back to Vigil’s Keep with them. Anders and Nevaeh sat away from the camp under the guise of keeping watch. Only Oghren lifting his heavy brow at her suggestion gave any hints at suspicion of their motive.

“So how old were you?” Anders asked, breaking the silence.

“I don’t see how that’s any business of yours.”

“I meant when all that happened at the circle,” he was smiling at her.

“Oh, well,” she draws out the word, considering. “I was 14 when they gave me my harrowing, and I was probably with my clan for 3 years before Ostagar, so I couldn’t have been 15 yet.”

“Harrowed at 14?”

“It’s a miracle I made it through. No wonder Jowen was worried, he was older than me.” She shrugged. “Irving’s pet project.”

“I always got the feeling like I’d disappointed my favourite Uncle when they’d haul me back. The way he’d sit on the other side of his desk looking down his nose talking about his broken trust before he doled out the punishment.”

She snorted. “He had that effect on people. At least you didn’t have to walk around with a stranger’s name, living up to some standard set by a person you’ve never met.”

They listened to the sounds of the camp behind them, the crackle of the dying fire, Oghren’s growling snores, she glanced back and saw Nathaniel silhouetted in the tent oiling his bow by the light of a glowstone, Velanna behind him gesturing, continuing the argument they’d been having for the past 2 days.

She watched Anders, his long legs stretched out before him, leaning against a large tree, hands behind his head staring up at the stars. Stars she’d often taken for granted. She moved closer to him and looked up to where he watched them glimmer in the sky like lightening bugs in a jar.

“It’s Eluvia,” he pointed out each star. “Her father sent her into the sky to save her from a mage. They say the mage killed him and she’s suck up there.” His hand reached out to pull her closer and rested on her hip.

“Should I hide then?”

“Do you want to?”

She raised herself up on her knees, the silverite studs on her tunic chimed softly as she threw one leg over him. “Maybe,” she smiled, straddling his thighs she settled into his lap. She rested her head against his chest and he hugged her tightly placing a kiss between her eyes. “But not from you.”

 


End file.
